


Damn Good Advice

by writingwritingwriting



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Christmas AU, F/F, Fluff, Mistletoe, clarke is an advice columnist, lexa is the guest of honor, office Christmas party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 05:53:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8832940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingwritingwriting/pseuds/writingwritingwriting
Summary: Award-winning journalist Lexa Woods is this year's guest of honor at the Trikru Time's Christmas party. Clarke Griffin is an advice columnist. There's also a mistletoe. 'Tis the Season!





	

**Author's Note:**

> This work is unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own. (Sorry!)

Lexa Woods is adaptable. As an award-winning journalist her job requires it.

Want an illuminating profile of life aboard a remote Floukru oil rig?  No problem.

Need a five-part series examining the life of a Grounder farming village faced with the worst agricultural crisis in 50 years? Consider it done.

However, ask her to be the guest of honor at this year’s office Christmas party, and you've got problems.

Lexa appreciates the honor. Truly, she does. It's quite flattering, actually. With the _Trikru Times_ employing over 200 journalists alone, it really is quite a feat to be chosen as the guest of honor.

Lexa knows this.

It's just, earning this title puts Lexa in the spotlight, makes her the story. It goes against all her journalistic instincts – Journalism 101: report the story, don't become part of it – and frankly it's unnerving.

Lexa can't adapt.

Which is why in a packed room of her colleagues, Lexa finds herself at the bar slowly nursing her second whiskey neat. Her discomfort for the situation seems to go unnoticed. She probably has the open bar to thank for that. Everyone is in good spirits. And, aside from a few warm smiles and hearty “congratulations,” Lexa is left alone.

“Cheer up, Lexa. You're being honored.”

Lexa startles at the gentle voice of Marcus Kane. He appears out of nowhere, and leaves her coughing and sputtering on her sip of whiskey.

“I wish you wouldn't have done this,” Lexa grumbles, recovering from her coughing fit.

“What? A Christmas party?” Kane asks. “We have a Christmas party every year.”

“No,” Lexa says, rolling her eyes. “You know what I’m referring to, Marcus.”

She tips back the last of her whiskey just as another partygoer claps her on the back with congratulations.  She sputters and coughs again, offering the man a tight-lipped smile and nod after she recovers. Then she glares at Kane.

“The _Trikru Times_ honors one of its very own every year at this party. This year your name happened to be pulled from the hat.” Kane smiles and Lexa rolls her eyes (again) at yet another bad joke. Suddenly Kane leans closer. “In all seriousness though, Lexa, we’re very proud of you and all the work you’ve done here. You should be proud too.”

Lexa sighs, letting the praise sink in. “I appreciate it, Marcus. I do. But don’t you think it’s all a bit much? I mean, where did these pictures even come from?”

Lexa gestures at the ornately decorated room. It’s all very elegant with crisp whites, silvers, and golds. A large, lavishly decorated Christmas tree sits in the center of the room. However, new this year are the several _huge_ poster-sized photos of Lexa. Every picture is different and Lexa doesn't recognize when or where half of them were taken.

“You have our photo editor Indra to thank for those,” Kane says, pointing and waving to Indra across the room. Indra returns a nod before pointing at one of the large Lexa pictures and giving a thumbs up.

Lexa shakes her head. “Should’ve known.”

“Well, I must go and mingle with the others. Do try to have some fun,” Kane says. He stands and gives Lexa a gentle pat on the back. “And I’ll see you onstage in an hour for the guest of honor award ceremony.”

Kane winks before he’s off and Lexa is left glaring at his retreating form. Her eyes follow him until he disappears among the crowd. And then she’s alone again.

That is, until she meets the eye of a beautiful blonde.

They share a smile. Lexa sends her one of her much-practiced nods and it must be invitation enough for the woman, because suddenly she’s striding over to the bar. Lexa sucks in a breath and stills as the woman slips into the empty stool beside her.

“You're Lexa Woods.”

The blonde woman says it as a statement, but the way she stares at Lexa makes her think she's waiting for an answer. And Lexa would answer, it’s just that she’s too busy staring at the beautiful woman. At her lips. At her cute little freckle. At her deep blue eyes.

Finally she finds enough sense to nod. “How did you guess?”

Lexa pairs her question with a wave of her hand to the several large photographs surrounding them, and the woman laughs. Not just a polite ‘Ha Ha that’s funny’ kind of laugh, but a real genuine laugh. And Lexa loves it.  

“Actually, this helped tip me off.” The blonde opens her clutch and holds up a small flyer. And suddenly Lexa is staring at another (albeit smaller) picture of herself.

“Oh god,” Lexa groans. The _fucking_ flyer. She had forgotten about the flyer. Kane had insisted on handing one out to every individual who walked into tonight’s party. Lexa had promptly thrown hers away. “That’s really embarrassing.”

The blonde giggles and holds out her hand. “I’m Clarke Griffin, by the way.”

“Lexa Woods,” Lexa returns, shaking the blonde’s hand.

“It's nice to finally put a face to the name. I’m a big fan of your writing.”

“Oh.” Lexa blushes. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, my friends and I, we think you're kind of a legend here at _Trikru Times_.” Clarke points over to a nearby high top table where three sets of eyes watch their interaction. When Lexa looks, three sets of eyes turn away. “Seriously, you can ask them yourself.”

“I believe you,” Lexa says.

And she does. Lexa, who spends her life researching and gathering facts, believes Clarke because the blonde said so.

“Your report on the flawed regulations of Floukru Nation’s oil pipelines made my jaw drop,” Clarke continues. “I mean, the potential ecological dangers alone. How did the Boat People’s leader not realize that?”

Lexa shrugs. It's all she can do. Because seriously, how did Luna not realize the dangers of her nation’s flawed oil pipelines? It was something she often wondered when writing the story.

“Anyway,” Clarke says, waving her hand. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“It’s an open bar,” Lexa teases.

“Well,” Clarke smiles. “Can I order you a drink then?”

Clarke waves a bartender down and before Lexa knows it, she’s holding her third whiskey neat while Clarke sips on some sort of fruity cocktail.

“So, guest of honor, huh?” Clarke asks after a bit. “Pretty big deal. Congratulations.”

“Yeah. It’s great. Thanks.”

Clarke narrows her eyes. “Why don’t you sound more excited?”

“I’m very honored,” Lexa says. “It just—”

As if on cue, another partygoer claps her on the back. More congratulations. Again, it's all small nods and polite smiles from Lexa until she twists back to Clarke with a frown.

“That,” Lexa finishes, rubbing her shoulder. “My back will be black and blue before the night is over.”

“Hm. Kinky.” Clarke nearly growls the words, and despite it being a joke, it still pulls a blush from Lexa.

“So, Clarke, what do you…”

Lexa doesn’t finish her question, because suddenly Clarke is sliding from her stool and twisting Lexa around so that her back faces the bar. Clarke then moves into the space directly in front of Lexa.

“There. Problem solved,” Clarke says, smiling triumphantly. “Now if anyone wants to get to you, they’ll have to go through me first.”

Indeed, they will. But Lexa barely has time to register the sweet gesture – which, don’t get her wrong, is absolutely adorable and leaves her body buzzing with the warm fuzzies – because she’s too focused on their new proximity.

Clarke is so close. Even the slightest movement would result in the tiniest of touches. So, Lexa moves. She reaches back for her whiskey and sure enough, her knee grazes Clarke’s thigh. They share a shy smile, but that’s it. Neither moves.

And then it hits her – this is the most fun she’s had all night.

“So,” Lexa starts again, “what do you do Clarke?”

“I’m an advice columnist.”

“Oh, I didn’t know the _Trikru Times_ still had an advice column,” Lexa says. Then with a smirk she adds, “Isn’t that a bit dated?”

Lexa smiles, she’s merely teasing, but Clarke takes the opportunity to swat at her knee. And then she doesn’t remove her hand from Lexa’s knee.

“Okay, so maybe it isn’t quite as grand as what you do, but there’s some real value in it,” Clarke says. “I’ll have you know, I give some damn good advice.”

Their conversation continues on like that. They talk more about their work, every so often teasing one another. Lexa prods more into Clarke’s personal life and that’s when she learns about the three individuals over at the high top table who just can’t seem to stop staring.

Their names are Wells, Raven, and Octavia. They all work in different departments here at the _Trikru Times_. And – much to Lexa’s relief – they’re all just friends who happen to take lunch together every day at the same time.

Lexa tells Clarke all about the new feature story she’s researching. It’s about politics and power in the Ice Nation and it’s a piece that’ll surely send Lexa to Azgeda in the new year. Clarke cautions Lexa to dress warmly, because “have you ever been to Azgeda? It’s fucking freezing.” The concern warms Lexa’s heart.

It’s during Clarke’s ‘advice I’ve given that’s backfired’ story that Kane decides to interrupt.

“It’s time to go, Lexa,” Kane says, tugging Lexa up from her chair. “The award ceremony is about to begin.”

Kane continues to pull her from Clarke, but Lexa has just enough time to turn and ask Clarke one last thing:  “Any advice for me?”

Lexa means about her upcoming award speech, but the advice Clarke gives her is infinitely better.

“Here's some advice,” Clarke says, her voice low. She leans close and whispers in Lexa's ear. “When you get a girl underneath the mistletoe, don't blow it.”

Lexa looks up and sure enough mistletoe hangs above them. Mistletoe hangs above each bar stool. Lexa kicks herself, because how could she miss this? She spends her life observing people and places. It’s practically her goddamn career.

Lexa shakes her head and drops her gaze back to Clarke. They pause and it’s like time stands still. Lexa glances one last time at the mistletoe before she leans in…

Then Clarke leans in…

And then – _oof!_

Suddenly Lexa is jolted back to the present by another yank from Kane. Lexa resists, oh god, how she resists, because dammit, it’s Clarke! And a mistletoe! And how dare Lexa ignore such a time-honored tradition. But her strength is no match for Kane, who practically drags her away. Lexa glances over her shoulder – once, twice – before the crowd envelopes her and she can no longer see Clarke.

The award ceremony is very informal. Kane opens with a few jokes before going into the details as to why the _Trikru Times_ has chosen Lexa Woods as its guest of honor this year. It’s all very flattering and there’s even a little slideshow that – yes – features even more pictures of Lexa. (It’s in this moment that Lexa decides she needs to have a talk with Indra later.)

“So, without further ado,” Kane says, his voice magnified through the room. “Here is your Guest of Honor:  Lexa Woods.”

The crowd claps. Kane beckons Lexa forward. And suddenly she’s staring into the faces of 200+ colleagues holding a very heavy, very shiny award.

“Say something,” Kane whispers, nudging her.

Ah, right. A speech. Kane had told her to prepare a little something for tonight. Not a full-blown acceptance speech, but just a few words to show her gratitude.

“Thank you,” Lexa blurts. She looks over to Kane who motions for her to continue. “Very much.”

Lexa turns to leave, but Kane quickly intercepts by wrapping an arm around Lexa’s shoulders. He guides her back to the microphone.

“Not so fast,” Kane murmurs. “You’re being honored, Lexa, the people expect a little more than ‘thank you.’”

Lexa sucks in a breath and studies the award in her hand. It really is quite beautiful, but all she can think about right now is Clarke and that very good piece of advice she shared. Lexa has never been one to turn down good advice before.

When Lexa looks up again, she finds the crowd staring, waiting for her to do something. Anything. But Lexa’s focus is on Clarke – who’s seated at the bar once again – and what she can do to get off this stage as fast as possible.

Lexa meets Clarke’s gaze from across the room. They share a smile. And then Lexa’s eyes wander up, up, up to…

Mistletoe.

“Lexa, the floor is yours. Say something,” Kane says, nudging her again. “Please.”

“Hi,” Lexa says into the microphone. Her voice booms throughout the room. “Thank you very much for this award. It truly is an honor. But this would have never been possible without all of you who make up the staff here at the _Trikru Times_. From our fact-checkers, to our editors, to our photo department – which by the way, Indra, we need to have a chat later – every single one of you deserves this award. This publication is a team effort, and so I thank _you_.”

The crowd erupts in cheers. Kane moves to reclaim the microphone, but Lexa isn’t finished yet.

“And did you know that the _Trikru Times_ is home to one of the greatest advice columns ever?”

Now people are confused. Little murmurs move through the crowd. At the bar, Clarke blushes a deep shade of red.

“It gives damn good advice. In fact, I received some really good advice tonight, which I'm about to follow. Now.”

Lexa jumps from the stage, pushing and squeezing past her colleagues until she is just a few feet away from the blonde. Blue eyes meet green, and suddenly Lexa’s finds herself a bit breathless. (She blames the jump and jog from the stage for her lack of air, because what (who) else could be to blame?)

Both women look up at the mistletoe before meeting each other’s gaze again.

“Don't blow it,” Clarke whispers.

Without a second thought, Lexa reaches up and gently pulls Clarke’s face to her own. She lingers for the briefest of moments with a barely there touch before pressing a kiss lightly to the corner of Clarke’s mouth.

She doesn’t want to be too forward. Too aggressive.

But then Clarke wraps her hand behind Lexa’s neck and pulls her forward, crashing their lips together in what can only be described as a bruising kiss. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves them both breathless.

The crowd whoops and hollers, but Lexa hears nothing, save for the thud of her rapidly beating heart against her rib cage.

When they pull apart, both women are grinning. Clarke bites her bottom lip and that’s all it takes for Lexa to pull her into another bruising kiss.

With their lips just millimeters apart, Lexa whispers:

“Got any more advice?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Love it? Hate it? Let me know with a review!


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